Victoria's Secret
by WashDCChick
Summary: A shopping excursion goes awry and leads to an unfortunate encounter. C/S Friendship and G/S. *Please* review.


Title:Victoria's Secret  
  
Author:DCChick  
  
Rating:PG-13  
  
Category: General/Humor  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own them, I swear. I just like to bring them out and play with them occasionally.  
  
Feedback:Please review. Pretty please. I'll be your best friend...  
  
Archival:www.grissomandsara.com, otherwise ask.  
  
Summary:A shopping excursion goes awry and leads to an unfortunate encounter. Can those involved keep their professional demeanor, or will someone crack and reveal too much?  
  
  
Author's Notes:Huge thank you's to: Stepf: my cheerleader and beta, Meeta: for reminding me of the YoBling love and for beta-ing, Meg: for just being you, Amber: for telling me my fic made you think, and K: the best friend and beta ever.  
  
  
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She'd fought long and hard, coming up with every reason, rational and irrational, she could think of to keep from doing it. Catherine had fought longer and harder, and in the end Sara had given up, dropping her head against the table to avoid Catherine's look of smug resolution.   
  
"I really don't need this, Cath," Sara had insisted yet again.  
  
"I've seen you change in the locker room. Trust me, you do."  
  
  
  
Catherine paid Sara little mind as they forged ahead on the Las Vegas highway, Sara in the passenger seat.   
  
"Cath, no one's taken me underwear shopping since I got my first training bra, and quite honestly, I think I'm still wearing the same bra."  
  
"Which is exactly why I'm taking you shopping," Catherine said, with a mildly frustrated toss of her head. "Every man loves lingerie."  
  
"Not Grissom."  
  
"Even Grissom."  
  
"He's never said anything about it."  
  
"He wouldn't dare," Catherine snorted. "The big chicken. Do you know what I had to go through to get you two together?"  
  
Sara shook her head, all wide-eyed surprise.  
  
Catherine sighed in exasperation, "I should get hazard pay for this."   
  
Sara stared out the window, lost in thought about Catherine's statement, and wallowing in self-pity over being dragged lingerie shopping.  
  
"You knew about me and Grissom?" she asked, unsure if she even wanted to know the answer.  
  
"Who do you think got him to send you the plant?"  
  
Sara's mouth dropped open, "You know about the plant?"  
  
"You should have seen him. It was like he was sixteen, stuttering and trying to figure out what to put on the card," she smiled, remembering. " 'From Grissom.' Well, I suppose it was the best he could do at the time."  
  
Speechless, Sara could only sit and think, but not even learning of Catherine's role in her relationship with Grissom could distract her from the impending chore. Catherine was Grissom's friend, so Sara hadn't been entirely surprised that she knew about her and Grissom. She had been floored, however, when Catherine had suddenly taken her aside in the locker room.  
  
Sara needed help, Catherine had declared, and by God, she was going to help her. Sara's undergarments had been deemed 'appalling' and 'unacceptable'. Sara had suddenly felt distinctly inadequate, like standing in the high school gym locker room where all the other girls had been built like Barbie and she was kid sister, Skipper. There she was, years later, being scrutinized in her underwear by Catherine, Barbie incarnate.   
  
"Look," she had thought. "It's Former Stripper turned Crime Scene Investigator and Single Mother Barbie." Sara had grimaced at her own pettiness and inwardly apologized for thinking that.  
  
Sara had long since come to term with her own body, but standing there that day looking at a disapproving Catherine, arms crossed, that self-confidence was nowhere to be seen.   
  
"No friend of mine is going to wear that to bed," Catherine had told her. Sara was to go shopping. With Catherine. For lingerie.   
  
Stepping out of the car into the parking lot, Sara wondered once more if it was too late to run the other way. Despite the fact that she had several inches on the older woman, Sara held back, walking slowly, head down, hands stuffed in her pockets, like a petulant child. But she'd do anything to make Grissom happy, and Catherine certainly had more experience with men than she did. Sara frowned, but quickly caught up to Catherine.  
  
The two women advanced on the store, Sara's senses were assaulted by a jumble of pastel, lace and perfume. Catherine sent the saleswoman away with a dismissive wave of the hand. She was on a mission, she told Sara, and there were to be no distractions. Sara needed her help, just as Grissom had needed her help.   
  
"After all," Catherine said. "What are friends for?   
  
"Okay, we'll start with something simple, " said Catherine, assessing Sara with a critical eye. "What do you wear to bed?"  
  
"To bed?" Sara repeated.  
  
"To sleep," Catherine clarified.  
  
Sara looked puzzled. "Whatever I have around, a t-shirt or sweats. Whatever's comfortable."  
  
Catherine clucked her tongue and headed for a nearby rack of pink lace. Pausing, she turned and headed instead for a row of black silk.  
  
"We'll compromise," she allowed.  
  
Sara rolled her eyes. "Gee. Thanks."  
  
Catherine gave a small smirk, but otherwise ignored her. Gradually, she amassed an armful of items and handed them to Sara, directing her towards a dressing room with a gentle smile and a firm hand.  
  
"But Catherine, if I'm sleeping, how is Grissom even going know what I'm wearing?"  
  
It was a valid point, Sara was certain of it. She was wrong.   
  
"It's for before you sleep, not to mention during and after." She pointed a finger at the dressing room. "Now go."  
  
Reluctantly, Sara assented, glancing back over her shoulder and receiving a stern look in reply. A few minutes later, Catherine rapped on the dressing room door, and Sara's disembodied head came barely peering out.   
  
"Cath, I don't think-"  
  
"Good, don't think. Show."  
  
This scene replayed itself several times, with Sara protesting that this garment was too low and that one too short. Catherine would render the final verdict, nodding or scowling, occasionally tugging here or there, checking the fit, Sara still muttering something about Catherine being worse than her own mother, and couldn't she just go shopping with Lyndsey.   
  
Once a few items of sleepwear had been selected, Catherine dashed any hopes Sara had of an early release by informing her that they had to get a few bra and underwear sets before they were done.  
  
Feeling the futility of further arguing, Sara sighed and inwardly plotted her revenge, as the sales clerk came towards her wielding a tape measure, apparently to properly size her.   
  
While Catherine worked her way through the store, pulling open drawers, Sara wandered behind her, amazed at the myriad of shapes and sizes, wondering what the women who fit in them must look like.  
  
Periodically, Catherine's hands would be full, and she would hand a pile off to Sara to try on and return. Sara examined each piece as Catherine handed it to her, and held up one particularly little piece of lace and spandex, horrified.  
  
"A thong??? No way. Uh uh. Nope. Someone could hurt themselves with this thing. I can see the headline now: 'CSI Sidle Dies in Tragic Thong Accident'. Cath, this looks like something a stripper would wear!" The words had left her mouth before allowing her brain time to properly filter them.   
  
"Oh, God, Cath. I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"  
  
Catherine laughed out loud. "You think I don't know I used to be a stripper, Sara?" she said.  
  
"No, I just meant..."  
  
"Don't worry about it. I'll let you in on a little secret: men like a little stripper in their lives, and no, Grissom never saw me dance. Not that it would matter if he had, he only has eyes for you. Always has."  
  
Sara felt reassured. She'd never have admitted to feeling the tiniest bit threatened by Catherine's past with Grissom, just as Catherine would never admit to feeling the tiniest bit threatened by Sara's present with him. Having picked out a few items she liked, and a few items Catherine liked, she'd even began to relax and enjoy the process. She bent down to reach for something that had caught her eye, and turned back to Catherine, wondering aloud what Grissom would think of her in it, when she noticed a man near them turning around.  
  
It was Greg.  
  
"Catherine," he greeted, looking pleasantly surprised.  
  
"Greg," Catherine replied.  
  
Then he noticed Sara.  
  
"Sara!" he said with an appreciative look.  
  
"Greg??"  
  
Sara suddenly felt as if she were about to lose her lunch. What was Greg doing shopping here? Had he heard her talking about Grissom? Her question was quickly answered; she could practically see his thoughts as they crossed his face sequentially.  
  
**He was in a lingerie store: glee. Catherine was lingerie shopping: joy, with Sara: elation, who was shopping for Grissom? disappointment, quickly followed by comprehension and fear. If Grissom made him nervous before, now he made Greg down right petrified. He knew something he wasn't supposed to know, and something he certainly didn't want to know.**  
  
Meantime, Sara was having remarkably similar emotions, save for the thoughts about killing herself, Catherine and Greg, not necessarily in that order.  
  
As amused as Catherine appeared to be by this mutual display of horror, she broke the silence, "So Greg, come here often?"   
  
Greg swallowed hard and Sara saw him put on his best game face. She could just imagine what he was thinking: **he could deal with the dilemma of finding out that his boss was dating his co-worker, who just happened to be on the world's most spectacular women, and running into her lingerie shopping - for him - later. Running into her and his other, equally spectacular co-worker, who just happened to be a former stripper, lingerie shopping was a once-in-a-lifetime event, one he certainly wasn't going to waste. **  
  
Greg turned to Catherine and said suavely, "Actually, yes. Though I don't recall ever seeing you here."  
  
Sara was looking distinctly green, and she knew it had not escaped Catherine's attention, but the look in the blonde's eyes told her Catherine wasn't about to leave without unsettling Greg a bit first.  
  
Catherine looked Greg straight in the eye and said, "Really? I had no idea you were into that sort of thing, Greg. Not that there's anything wrong with it."  
  
Greg flushed. "Actually, I'm shopping for my girlfriend, Heidi."  
  
"Really? Good for you, Greggo. You'll have to tell us all about her later. Sara and I have to finish up here."  
  
Clearing his throat nervously, Greg looked from Catherine to Sara, who couldn't even look him in the eye by this point. "Ladies," he said, and quickly exited the store.   
  
  
  
Grissom hadn't seen Sara before work that evening; she had said she needed to return to her own apartment, but would stay with him the next day. She had mentioned to him that she was getting together with Catherine and he hadn't pressed her for details, grateful that the two seemed to be continuing their careful friendship.   
  
Grissom walked into the lab that night, in the particularly pleasant mood he was often in since starting a relationship with Sara. When he entered the break room to hand out assignments, however, he got the distinct impression that all was not well. Sara stood in a corner hunched miserably over a cup of coffee; Warrick and Nick seemed fine, arguing over something in the sports section of the paper, and Catherine appeared to be watching everything with a smile he didn't think he liked the look of.  
  
Deciding for the moment that he was imagining things, Grissom handed out assignments as usual, choosing for purely selfish reasons to put Sara on the same case as he was. At the crime scene he managed to keep Sara very near him, a treat he very rarely allowed himself. They normally went out of their way to avoid any hint of impropriety when they were together, even if it meant working on different crime scenes or not standing too close, even if the situation permitted.   
  
Although Sara seemed bothered, and that bothered Grissom, he didn't press the issue, except to push the envelope even further in keeping her physically close to him. He would frequently call her over to point something out to her, even though she was perfectly capable of figuring it out on her own, or to ask her about something, even though he was perfectly capable of figuring it out on his own. The feel of their arms brushing against each other, and her hair occasionally blowing in his face gave him some comfort. When finally he caught Sara's eyes, she rewarded him with a small smile; it certainly wasn't the toothy grin he was hoping for, but it was something.  
  
Things continued in a similar fashion when they returned from the scene. Sara gave some excuse to pass her DNA samples off to Grissom, practically shoving them at him and running off before he could say anything. He walked into the DNA lab and was pleasantly surprised when for once Greg barely looked up from his work, and said nothing. Grissom went to the break room for coffee, Warrick nodded hello to him, and Catherine gave him another smile he still didn't think he liked.  
  
Sara seemed to be at once eased and made uncomfortable by Grissom's presence as they continued to work the case together. Grissom purposely invaded her personal space, as he had often done before they had acknowledged their feelings for each other to each other. One arm went parallel to hers, the other around her chair, and he thought he felt her tension wane a bit, until he spoke.   
  
"Has Greg been by with the DNA results? I told him to find us as soon as he had them." He could have sworn he saw Sara wince.  
  
"No," was her only response.  
  
"Figures. Why don't you go get them from him? I'll finish this."  
  
Sara turned quickly in her chair to look him in the eye for one of the first times that shift.   
  
"Oh, Gris. Can't you go get them?" she asked in a low tone she rarely, if ever, used with him when they were not alone. It was a tone he had great difficulty resisting. "I really want to finish this."  
  
He was a weak man when it came to all things Sara, and he was particularly eager to appease her considering her earlier distracted mood.  
  
Grissom's features softened as he smiled and leaned in as close as he dared, "Sure. I'll be right back."   
  
Sara's smile seemed truer to him now. "Okay. Thanks," she said.  
  
Grissom strode towards the DNA lab, visions of Sara dancing in his head. Whatever had been upsetting her seemed to be fading, and he wanted it to fade completely; if that meant putting up with Greg's shenanigans, he would suffer gladly. It was a small price to pay to keep a happy Sara. He was however, not pleased that lab tech had not sought them out with the results as he had instructed.  
  
Greg's music blared though his headphones, preventing him from hearing anything until Grissom reached out, lifted up one ear piece and yelled in his ear, "GREG!"  
  
"Grissom!" Grissom thought Greg was particularly jumpy.  
  
"Been hitting the Hawaiian Blend a little too hard, Greg?"  
  
"Huh? No no. I just - didn't hear you come in," he said breathlessly.  
  
"Clearly. Do you have the results I asked you for?" Grissom asked mildly.  
  
"Results. Right, the results. They're, uh, right here."  
  
"Greg," he said softly. "Am I making you nervous again?"  
  
"Nervous? No! No. Definitely not . Why would I be nervous? Everything's fine."  
  
Greg's actions belied his words and he stood with Grissom's case results still clutched tightly in his hand.   
  
Grissom cocked his head to one side. He seemed to have more patience for everything these days, even Greg.  
  
"Greg," he said evenly, "Is something wrong?"  
  
"No. Sorry. Here are the results."  
  
"Thank you, Greg."  
  
He took the results, narrowed his eyes curiously at Greg once more, and left, passing Catherine in the doorway, grinning like her Cheshire namesake. As she so often reminded him, he was no 'people person', but even he could tell something was off in the lab. Being supervisor was hard enough on him, add to that the stress of starting a relationship with Sara, and now this; was it any wonder he was heavier and grayer than two years ago?  
  
  
  
  
"Warrick! Oh, thank god, Warrick, you've gotta help me." Warrick turned to see Greg, a bundle of frantic nervousness as he found Warrick in the break room and clutched at his arm.  
  
Warrick eyed him coolly. "Get a grip, man. What's with everyone tonight?"  
  
Greg took a step backwards, "Why? What do you mean?"  
  
"Dude. Sara's avoiding you, you're avoiding her and Grissom, and Cat keeps slinking around here like, well, a cat."  
  
On cue, Catherine appeared in the room and winked at Warrick who shook his head, but smiled at her, briefly taking in her appearance. Greg looked back and forth at the two of them like a trapped animal. When Grissom and Sara entered the room, his eyes only got wider and he appeared to want to make a break for the door, or the window, had there been one.  
  
Sara looked from Catherine to Greg to Grissom. Grissom looked from Sara to Greg to Catherine and then to Warrick, hoping for an explanation, but receiving none, and finally spoke, "Listen up. Nobody leaves this room until I find out what's going on here."  
  
Warrick nodded his agreement and turned to face Catherine, his cool eyes issuing a challenge to hers.  
  
"Don't look at me," Catherine protested. "All I did was take Sara shopping."  
  
"Why am I not surprised you're involved in all of this?" Warrick replied.  
  
No one was saying anything. Sara was glaring, Greg was cowering and Catherine was smirking.   
  
Finally Greg cracked and blurted out, "I saw Sara buying lingerie for you today." He took a breath and continued his confession at breakneck speed, "It was a coincidence, I swear! I had no idea you and Sara were dating, I won't tell a soul, scout's honor."   
  
Grissom rubbed the bridge of his nose and seemed to be trying to process this new information. Though Warrick was not surprised by the revelation of Grissom and Sara's relationship, now the entire night shift would know about it, and that Catherine had taken Sara lingerie shopping for him. Grissom took Sara's hand momentarily and told her with some uncertainty, "It'll be fine. Don't worry about it," He left the room walking back towards his office looking weary. Warrick thought Grissom could probably use a drink right then, if not two.  
  
Greg and Sara left the break room wearing matching looks of humiliation, leaving only Catherine and Warrick.  
  
"You're a troublemaker," Warrick said.  
  
Still maintaining her innocence, Catherine insisted, "I didn't do anything."  
  
Warrick snorted, "Right."  
  
"How was I supposed to know that Greg was going to be there and all hell was going to break loose?"  
  
"True, but you certainly didn't do anything to help once it did."  
  
Catherine tried to look appropriately contrite and failed.  
  
"So," Warrick continued. "You went shopping for lingerie?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Buy anything for yourself?"  
  
"Wouldn't you like to know?"  
  
"Maybe I would. Maybe I'd like to see it, too."  
  
Catherine shot him a look over her shoulder, "Maybe you will."  
  
  
  
  
As promised, Sara went home with Grissom after shift, although her earlier mood had returned with a vengeance. Sara sat down on the couch and stretched her legs out, allowing Grissom to lift them up and seat himself underneath them, perpendicular to her. From his vantage point, Grissom could just see a bit of black lace peeking out from the top of Sara's v-neck top. His eyes were drawn to it, in spite of his best efforts otherwise.  
  
"So you...were buying lingerie, for me?" he asked distractedly.  
  
Sara raised an eyebrow. "Weren't you listening to me on the ride home? I - Gris? What are you looking at?"  
  
Following his gaze with her own, Sara sat up straight and adjusted her shirt roughly.  
  
"I don't believe you! After the day I had all you can do is try to look down my shirt? Can't you think of anything other than my underwear?"  
  
As Sara stood up, Grissom broke from his underwear-induced trance, trying not to laugh.  
  
"Wait, Sara, please. I'm sorry." He stood up and pulled Sara back onto the couch with him. "How can I make it up to you? I could make Greg work double shifts for a month. Would that make you feel better?"  
  
Now it was Sara's turn to try to keep from laughing. "No, I suppose that wouldn't actually accomplish anything. It is tempting though," she conceded. "You'd do that for me?"  
  
The tension broken, Grissom looked pointedly at Sara. "No. But you're not angry with me anymore."  
  
Sara's smile broke into a grin and she slid her legs over Grissom's, easing herself into his lap and snaking her arms around his neck. She leaned into him and smiled wider as his hands easily encircled her waist.  
  
Suddenly she pulled back, struggling with her thoughts. Grissom raised his eyebrows at her, and waited for an explanation. Sara hung her head so Grissom couldn't see her eyes.   
  
"I just can't do it."  
  
"Do what?" Grissom asked, concerned.  
  
"I said I wouldn't tell anyone but I just can't keep it inside anymore."  
  
"Sara, what is it? What's wrong?" Bewildered by her actions, Grissom took Sara's face in his hands.  
  
"It's Greg."  
  
"Greg? What's wrong with Greg?"  
  
"He-" Sara had to bite her lip to keep from smiling.   
  
She looked up at Grissom. "Greg wore women's underwear."  
  
"WHAT? Greg wears women's underwear?"  
  
Sara laughed, "No. Thank god. He wore women's underwear."  
  
Grissom cocked an eyebrow at her sternly. "Explain yourself, woman!"  
  
"Warrick told me because he felt badly about the whole Catherine/Greg fiasco. Apparently, Greg was late for work one night that he was at his girlfriend's place. He was fumbling around in the dark for his silk boxers and grabbed his girlfriend's silk underwear instead."  
  
Grissom stared at her, struggling for words. "Dare I ask how Warrick knows this?" he asked eventually.  
  
Relieved of her secret, Sara started leaning into Grissom again, and laughed. "It's okay. He and Nick invited Greg out for drinks, but he insisted that he had to go home first, but wouldn't say why. They forced it out of him."  
  
Grissom blinked. "I don't even know how to respond to that."  
  
Sara gave him a crooked smile and started running her nails up his scalp, knowing how much it turned him on.  
  
"Don't," she said.  
  
Just shy of reaching her mouth with his, Grissom stopped short and pursed his lips.  
  
"What?" Sara asked.  
  
Grissom paused before answering, "So that's what Victoria's Secret is."  
  
  
~FIN~ 


End file.
